A Leader's Worst Nightmare
by NeoNails
Summary: Future!NEO. Click the link to see all the NEO stories in order. Rogue and Scott have been working together with the team for nearly a year now. An accident with a soon to be recruited newbie causes Rogue some grief that she's forced to deal with later.


**Explanation:** Well, I don't know if you guys still remember, but I've decided to connect a majority of my XM:E stories together, to my own kind of sad, demented plot line. I also mentioned in the second chapter of my most recent fic (_Obliviousness Doesn't Always Pay Off_) that I'd list the stories in chronological order. I've even gone as far as to create a quirky name for them.

The NEO Storyline:

1st: _Princess Next Door (Parts 1 & 2)_

2nd: _I Wonder…_

3rd: _Laptop Confessions_

4th: _A Late-Night Interview_

TBA

6th: _Obliviousness Doesn't Always Pay Off_

TBA

?th: _A Leader's Worst Nightmare_

**Summary:** Future!NEO Life has moved along pretty quickly for the X-men, even after Jean… 'left'. You might even go as far as to say things are almost 'normal' for the mutants. Too bad it never stays that way for long.

**Rating:** T.

**Disclaimer:** No. I don't anything. Just shut up and read.

**Side Note:** Whether or not you read the above stuff, you need to READ THIS PART. This takes place about eight or nine years into the future. That means Scott is 25-26-ish, and Rogue is about 23. You can figure everybody else's ages from there.

NOT BETA'D!!! (Any constructive criticism, just tell me in your review)

$4$

"Wha' are we here again?"

Scott Summers shrugged, drumming his fingers impatiently to some unheard beat. "I don't understand it anymore than you do. We've tried to talk to them for two months now. The Professor's personally talked to her parents three times, and the kid five. They haven't taken the bait once, and yet we're still here."

Marie "Rogue" Darkholm sighed. She twiddled with a long strand of white hair that she hadn't pulled back in her ponytail. "Y'know, if we keep this up, her parents are gonna call the cops." Saying this, she shot her friend and teammate a knowing look. "Or, more lahkly, they'll fahle for a restrainin' order."

He snorted, chuckling a little under her breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but was distracted as a confident, blonde 15-year-old stepped out of her parents' house. A large, dopey yellow Labrador bounded out in front of her, holding a chew toy in his mouth and leaping around happily, trying to get her to throw the toy.

Before the blonde could throw her dog's ball, she noticed the nonchalant, black Sedan parked across the street.

Rogue, seeing the girl's recognition, asked Scott, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Do ya think we should talk to her?"

He smirked, wordlessly getting out of the car. She followed suit, opening her door and hopping out. Together they walked over to the teen. She walked towards them as well, stopping at the end of the driveway.

Crossing her arms tightly over her chest she snapped, "When are you guys going to get that I don't want to join your stupid team?"

Rogue winced apologetically. "Alison, you know this would be to yer benefit. You have powers, and you also have the right-"

Alison Blaire held up her hand, rolled her eyes, and smoothly cut Rogue off. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I saw the movie. Repeatedly." She shot them a dry look, and continued on, "'If I have the right to do something to better others, I have the responsibility to do so'." They were obviously taken aback, and she looked at them pointedly. "Y'know? Declaration of Independence? It's in the first sentence alone."

Rogue blinked dumbly. "Ya know the first sentence of the Declaration of Independence?"

Ali tucked a lock of hair behind her ear uncomfortably. "So?" she replied snottily. "I'm good at History."

Scott smiled. "That's fine," he told her soothingly. "But we're not here for your classes. You know why we're here."

She rolled her eyes, sullen. "Yeah, I've been told a couple dozen times," she mumbled. Ali tugged her hair out of the low bun she had pulled it back into, only to pull it back in a higher bun. Her dog, having loped up to them, held a saliva-drenched ball in his mouth. She tugged the ball out of his mouth, and tossed it the length of the front yard. She then proceeded to rub the saliva off her hand, longer than she needed to. After a few seconds, she fiddled with a bracelet hanging loosely on her wrist before wringing her hands.

"Yer havin' difficulty keepin' yer hands still, aren'cha?" Rogue asked the younger girl. She regarded Alison in a new light. "Yer powers actin' up?"

Ali stood a straighter, and it was plainly evident on her face that she was defensive. "No," she mumbled, "I can handle my powers perfectly, thank you." Her mouth curled into a grimace, her eyes breaking away from theirs, before rounding and whispering, "Aw, shit…"

Rogue arched an eyebrow, looking over her shoulder to see what the cause of Alison's odd reaction was. Instead, all she found was a dark-haired teen walking what looked to be a German Shepard, and waving. And when she turned back around, Ali's face was bright red with embarrassment. Hesitantly, she waved back, only to have her powers go off, and a blinding white light exploded in Rogue's face.

Alison gasped, as that same hand covered her mouth. "Oh my God, I am _so_ sorry," she told Rogue, but it was too late.

Rogue covered her eyes, seeing bright, multicolored stars behind her eyelids. That was not a good sign. Standing up straighter, she growled. "Ah _told_ the Prof. that she wasn't gonna give up easy! But _nooo_, he was _convinced_ that we could get her ta join! An' whata Ah get fer doin' his dirty work?! Gettin' blahnded by some ova-zealous teenaga' who thinks she can _handle her powahs_."

"Hey, Alison, is everything okay over there?"

Rogue still couldn't see, but judging by the deep baritone of the voice and its relative unfamiliarity to her, she guessed it was the boy walking his dog. Still, the obviousness of the question grated against her already shortened fuse. At least this time she managed to keep her voice down- mostly. "Does it _look_ lahke things are okay ova here, Romeo?!"

Unbeknownst to Rogue, Scott offered Ali a half-smile as she continued to apologize to Rogue (who had since stopped listening), and grabbed the older woman's arm. "I think we should leave now, _Marie_." Scott only called Rogue by her first name when he wanted her to pay close attention or listen to him. "We're not done, mind you." That was most certainly directed towards Alison. Like the girl could forget about the Proessor's drive to get her to join their team.

Scott then tugged on Rogue's arm, pulling her across the street to their parked truck. He opened the door for her, finally getting a good look at her. Rogue's eyes were tightly squinted shut, and she bit her lip as though in pain. "Rogue," Scott told her, "You've got to open your eyes." She needed to breathe in a few times before she managed to relax enough to do so. But when she did open her eyes, she cursed under her breath.

Scott was able to fill in the blanks. "You can't see anything at all?"

Rogue nodded, "Nuttin' but black. Dammit, Ah _told_ the Prof. ta lay off, but nooo…" She shook her head. "There's no point in complain'. Ah just hope ta God this stuff'll wear off soon."

Scott nodded, but dumbly realized that she couldn't actually see him. "I feel the same," he whispered, helping her into the car, closing it and heading into the car.

$4$

"Well, this is not a good sign of things to come."

Rogue resisted the urge to wince at Mr. McCoy's cryptic response. Scott had filled him, the Prof., and Logan in on the details of the botched recruitment. Rogue was unable to speak to the Professor, as her short temper prevented her from saying anything to the leader. In fact, just knowing he was in the room was reason enough for her to want to clench her hands.

Mr. McCoy lifted up her left eyelid, and asked, "Can you see anything?"

Now Rogue did wince. "Yeah. That lahght you got shinin' in mah ah is killin' meh. But, no, othawise, Ah can only see blurry things."

McCoy hesitated. "This light is the tiny one from my pen," he explained quietly.

She froze. That wasn't a good thing, was it? She had seen that little pen light quite a few times before. In about eight years or so, Rogue had been through many a tussle and sustained several injuries. The little light was barely bright. It shouldn't have affected her as much as it did.

"You need at least a few hours bed rest to give your eyes a break," Mr. McCoy instructed. "Maybe then we'll check up on your eyes. And if by tomorrow morning you still can't see, well…"

That was not a good. Long pauses and unfinished sentences were not a good sign of things to come. Not that she would repeat her suspicions aloud. Scott would doubtlessly chastise her for thinking so pessimistically. Not to mention, she was a tiny bit afraid that actually saying that possibility would strengthen the chances of it happening.

Mr. McCoy excused himself, claiming he needed to run some kind of test or another to see whether or not he could create a antidote. She didn't question his logic, and Scott, Logan, and the Prof. remained just as quiet.

"Rogue," the voice directly in front of her began. She didn't need to guess who this voice was. She was still just as pissed at the Prof. as she had been an hour before. She was a Southern redhead. It was basically in her blood to get angry, and she wasn't above holding a grudge. Right now, she needed something- someone- to take her anger out on. Unluckily for the Professor, he was her current target.

She didn't bother listening to whatever the Prof. needed to say to her, and simply got up. Rogue had a semblance of an idea where she was going, and headed straight, despite her obvious vision handicap.

"Whoa, Rogue, slow down," Scott chided, sticking his arm out to catch her before she slammed into the wall.

An awkward moment passed between the three men in the room as they all exchanged glances. In the past several years, Logan had become a second father to Rogue. He knew that she would be angry, and not want to speak to the Professor X. However, the Professor believed he could reason with her. Scott and Logan knew better.

"I…" Scott glanced uncertainly between Logan and the Prof. "I'm gonna take her to her room, now." And before anyone could stop him, he looped a sturdy arm around Rogue's significantly smaller shoulders and steered her toward the door.

$4$

When Scott actually got Rogue to the hallway that housed all the 'original' X-kids, instead of opening her door and leaving her in her room, he turned to the door directly opposite hers.

He opened the door, ushering Rogue in. Of course, she knew the way to her room, and mumbled, "Scott, wha're we in yer room insteada mahne?"

Scott smoothly changed the subject, saying, "You know, I never really understood why you let your hair grow out."

Rogue didn't bother looking over at Scott. It wasn't like she could see him, anyway. Instead, she flopped down on his bed, propping herself up with her elbows. His abrupt change in subject matter had worked. Her mind had drifted over to the reason behind her significantly longer locks.

Sighing, she told herself it would be useless trying to explain to Scott why she _really_ grew her hair out.

So, she told him the same lie she had been telling everyone since it had first started to hit her shoulders: "Ah just needed a change."

If Rogue could actually look him in the eye without wincing, he would immediately know she was lying, red glasses be damned. But, as even the dim lights of his nightstand light irritated her, she kept her eyes shut. There was no chance he could see her avoid his gaze.

This meant he didn't know she was blatantly lying. It was easier this way. Scott thinking this white lie was the truth. Because the truth, the _real_ truth… Well, he wouldn't like it, in any case.

The truth was, Rogue had grown her hair out for Scott. It had nothing to do with the childish crush she once had on him all those years ago had nothing to do with it.

After Jean had… left, Scott had become a total recluse for nearly a month. He refused to come out of his room, barely eating, save the bottle of scotch that remained permanently attached to his hand.

And with the X-men's two strongest leaders gone, everyone was about ready to fall to pieces. Kitty was downright hysterical, Kurt spent almost all of his time comforting Kitty, Logan was out of the mansion more often than ever, and Ororo hid with her plants. The newbies were terrified and Magneto's kids still didn't trust anyone in the mansion. The professor… well, the Professor was subbing as a councilor for all the worried kids.

It was easy to see how saving the world might be put on the backburner with this kind of team.

This left Rogue as the only suitable 'leader' substitute. She knew she wasn't going to like it, but someone needed to man up and do it.

Her first act as the team's mock-leader was to get Scott back into shape. And while she was doing that, possibly separate him from his precious bottle of liquor.

It definitely was one of the most difficult tasks to face. The whole Risty ordeal had been cake compared to dealing with a drunk, depressed Scott.

But deal with him she did.

Rogue had to break the door down to actually get into his room. Once she did, she knew she had her work cut out for her. Scott was passed out on his bed, doubtlessly from the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed coupled with an empty stomach.

Once Rogue had managed to stir Scott from his deep slumber, but doing so had made her stomach turn. He had called her Jean in scotch-induced stupor. He told her, half-mumbling, how much he missed her and was happy she was back.

About three hours later, Rogue had managed to sober Scott up enough that he was at least semi-coherent. Then, in no uncertain terms, did she explain to him why he needed to stop this self-destructive behavior, as it was bad for the newbies' to be more concerned about their leader's behavior than vice versa.

It was a long, serious talk in which Scott said few words and Rogue was actually able to open up to the Boy Scout without fear of anyone overhearing. She was a little concerned when she left his room as to whether or not he'd pay heed to her warnings, but this was the part he needed to accomplish on his own.

The next day, Rogue announced the team's first Danger Room session in nearly three weeks. Everyone- especially Logan- was shocked to see that she would be leading the session. Halfway through her explanation of which people would be split up in what groups, Scott walked in, suited up. Rogue, true to her newfound role as pseudo leader, continued on as nothing had happened. She put him in the same group as the one she was in so she could easily keep an eye on him.

Her discussion with him had never been brought up again. However, Scott seemed to adopt her as a second-in-command of sorts. No one mentioned that, by doing this, Rogue had essentially taken over Jean's former job.

Rogue knew how bad Scott was still hurting, and decided to let the transition be a little easier for him. She stopped getting her hair as frequently, to the point where it brushed past her shoulder blades. Gradually, she stopped wearing so much make-up, too, occasionally even straying away from the solitarily dark colors she typically dressed in. Her voice softened its usual harsh edge and she began paying more attention to the newbies, helping them with their work and more.

She had become much more than a pseudo leader. Rogue had become a pseudo Jean.

"You've changed a lot in these past couple of years."

Scott's keen observation startled Rogue out of her reverie. When she finally understood the full extent of what she had said, her mouth curled involuntarily into a wry smile.

"Have Ah?" Rogue questioned, unable to keep the ironic lilt out of her voice. If she could actually see, she might've stared up at him, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, you have," Scott assured her, sitting down on the bed next to her. "From the time you first arrived at the mansion, 'till now… Well, you might as well have been two separate people."

Rogue's humor sobered up, and she sat up straight. "Alotta things have changed since Ah first got here compared ta now."

She was talking about Jean, and they both knew it. Really, it was only fitting for her to bring it up in his room. The first and last time they had talked about Jean's leaving had been in this same room; talking about her again in his room seemed right.

"For one thing, we've learned to deal without certain people in our lives," Scott joked weakly.

Rogue smiled lightly and shook her head. "No, no ya haven't Scott," she disagreed quietly. "Ya miss Jean just as much as ya did a year an' a halfago."

Groaning, Scott collapsed on his bed. "Is it that obvious?"

She shook her head. "Nah," she replied dismissively, "It's just one'a those things ya pick up on when ya work with a person fer long enough."

"But, umm," Rogue swallowed a lump in the back of her throat. "Jus' how much _do_ ya still miss 'er?"

This was a totally viable question, in her opinion. She was the co-leader for a reason. She needed to know whether or not her (and everyone else's, for that matter) leader was still hung up on the One that Got Away.

Scott was silent. Marie didn't blame him. She prided herself on caring enough, but never to the point where she might impose on any personal emotions he might be dealing with. This was probably the most intrusive question she'd ever asked… post-Alcohol Talk, in any case.

"I've gotten better," he confessed, barely above a whisper.

That was enough cause for Rogue to crack her eyes open, despite the immediate wince that the lights caused on her eyes. She glanced down at him, able to see only a fuzzy mass of colors and blurry shapes she recognized as Scott.

"Ah wasn't askin' if you had gotten batta', sugah," She corrected. "Ah asked whetha' or not ya miss her a lot." She didn't mean to sound harsh, but it came out that way nonetheless.

Scott was quiet for several minutes. Finally he confessed, doubtlessly more to himself than her, "I'll always miss her."

The silence was suddenly oppressive. In their near-perfect friendship, something had just cracked. The pristine façade that had been built up split into a huge spider-web-like crack, ready to shatter at the lightest pressure. Some unforeseen boundary had been crossed, and neither could do a damned thing about it.

"And yer neva' gonna get ova' it, are ya?" This was more statement than question, and more accusation than opinion.

Rogue didn't wait for a response or acknowledgement. She simply got up, using what poor vision she had to find her way to the door and into the excruciatingly bright hallway. She didn't give him the chance to get up and help her, shutting the door behind her before he could do either.

She covered her eyes, stumbled to the door to her room, yanked the door open, and walked in.

The only sound in the empty hallway was that of a door slamming shut.

$4$

"Have either of you seen Rogue?"

Kurt and Kitty paused their snuggle-fest in the kitchen to look up at Scott. They shook their heads, shrugged, and went back to being the disgustingly adorable newlyweds that they were.

"I believe she went out for a walk."

Scott turned around to face Mr. McCoy, confused. "Is her vision…?"

Mr. McCoy shook his head. "Back to the 20/20 vision she's always had." He smiled. "She woke up early this morning, perfectly fine. She left shortly after checking up with me. I believe she also mentioned something along the lines of completing a To Do list."

Scott sighed, defeated. This morning he had woken up with every intention of apologizing to Rogue. It appeared he wouldn't be able to get around to that immediately.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait around for very long. Less than a half an hour later, she walked through the mansion's front door and into the kitchen.

Scott blinked dumbly behind his rose quartz glasses at her. Rogue's white-and-auburn hair was now sporting a drastically different look. It was cut, chin-length, layered so the white chunks of hair in her face stopped at about her cheekbones. The haircut shaped her face perfectly.

Rogue's eyes locked with Scott's for a few seconds before broke the contact and removed her jacket. She wore a simple green shirt with sleeves that ended almost at her thumbs. Her jeans were dark blue, and you could just make out the same black boots she basically lived in.

Scott could tell from her straight face that she was determined not to be the first to say something. She obviously didn't know him as well as she thought, because there was no way he was going to keep this huge rift between them get any bigger. "Your hair looks nice," he complemented, trying to think of some other way to break the ice.

Rogue looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Well, Ah realized Ah was tryin' to be somethin' Ah'm not. So, Ah decided ta' make a change."

She turned to face him. The determination in her eyes was real. But no matter what, she still couldn't quash that one glimmer of fear as she told him factually, "If you'd prefer Ah no longer work with you as anotha' leader to the rest o' the team, that's fahne. I just can't stand bein' some Jean replacement to you."

Scott laughed. "Where in the hell would you get that absurd idea?!" He exclaimed, incredulous. He stood up from his seat behind the kitchen table. "You're nothing like her!"

Rogue stared. "_Excuse_ meh?! Ah spent a _year_ an' a _half_ workin' with you while she was gone! If Ah'm not some kinda sick replacement fer Jean, I don' know _who_ is!"

Scott ran a hand through his hair, growling under his breath. "Rogue," he told her, "If it's at all possible, you are the polar opposite of her. I mean, just last week you cursed out Bobby, for Chrissake!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "So yer takin' _his_ sahde now, are ya?! _He walked in the girls' bathroom_! Wha'd'ja _think_ Ah was gonna do? Congratulate 'im fer his complete act of _stupidity_?!"

They stared, toe to toe, neither backing down. Well, not until Scott's straight, stern face cracked and he began to snigger.

Rogue stomped her foot. "Don't snicka'!" she yelled. "Ah'm still angry at you!"

Scott didn't stop. It developed into a full, bellowing laugh. "Why not? Look at what we're doing! We were shouting at each other because you cursed Bobby out for walking in the girls' room while you were in there! What kind of people argue about such total bull?!"

Rogue's face collapsed, looking up at him tiredly with a half-smile. "Ah dunno." She shrugged, chuckling under her breath. "Ah guess we're just screwed up."

Scott's laughter quieted. They delved into a comfortable silence, if only momentarily.

"I really do like your haircut," he assured her. Smiling, he added, "Even if you don't look like… y'know."

A joke. That was a good sign. Jokes meant things were actually getting back to the way they were supposed to be.

"Ya won't get in trouble if ya say her name, _y'know_."

Scott smirked.

Yup. Things were back to the way they were supposed to be.

For now.

$4$

Whoa. This may be my longest one-shot in a while. I usually manage to finish what I need to in less pages, but this one needed a little more for me to fully end it.

I'm not sure what to do next. I'm torn between writing a one-shot between the Adult Rogue (because I don't have a better name for them) and Adult Kitty taking place a little before this one-shot, or something in between _A Late-Night Interview_ and _Obliviousness Doesn't Always Pay Off_. There's at least a two- or three-month gap between those two that needs to be filled before I feel better about the whole thing. :\


End file.
